


Quiet Me

by daydreamsonacloudyday



Series: Althea Clayton [3]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-30
Updated: 2014-05-30
Packaged: 2018-01-27 02:38:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1711916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daydreamsonacloudyday/pseuds/daydreamsonacloudyday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brynjolf calms Althea down from a nightmare.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quiet Me

**Author's Note:**

> Drabble request:  
> Quiet Me - drabble about one character trying to calm another down. 
> 
> In my headcanon, when a Dragonborn is going to use a Shout (or anything that gets their dragonblood going like being afraid, angry, etc., their eyes change from whatever they normally look like to what all dragons’ eyes look like (in my headcanon)—fiery orange/yellow/red in color and having vertical, slit pupils like reptiles.  
> Althea and Brynjolf were kidnapped and tortured by the Thalmor at one point in my story.

Brynjolf awoke from his sleep, bringing his hand up to rub his eyes, his other moving to pull his wife closer to him. He knew something was wrong when he felt the sheets below his fingertips instead of her warm skin, and it instantly shook him from his drowsy state. He rolled to face her side of the bed, propping himself up on his elbow, and furrowed his brow at what he saw.

The soft light of the dim fire from the kitchen illuminated her sleeping form, her small body curled up into a tight ball at the very edge of her side of the bed. Her dark hair obscured most of her face, but Brynjolf could see that she was trembling and gripping her blankets tightly. He knew she was having another nightmare, so he moved beside her, cradling her body with his.

He gently brushed her hair away from her sweaty forehead, then kicking off their blankets so she was not too hot. Brynjolf tenderly rubbed up and down his wife’s arm through the shirt of his that she was wearing, hoping that her nightmare would end quickly. He had an idea of what she was dreaming of and how horrid it was, and he only wished he could relieve her pain, but luck was not with him.

Soon Althea was mumbling in the dragon tongue, her voice distressed as she began to toss and turn in his arms. She was breathing fast, her face showing a myriad of emotions—none of them pleasant. She got louder and more restless until she finally hit her breaking point.

She awoke with a scream, one that had hints of the Thu’um in it, and she sat up, frantically breathing and looking around to gain a bearing of her surroundings. Brynjolf sat up as well and placed his hands on her arms, trying to get her to focus on him, whispering her name until she was calm enough to realize that he was there and that he was trying to comfort her.

When her eyes finally met his, he saw they were fiery and slit like a dragon’s, almost glowing in the firelight. He was not surprised that her inner dragon was showing; her fear was evident in the way he felt her shaking, in the speeding pulse in her neck, and the tears beginning to pool in her eyes.

"Lass, you’re alright now," Brynjolf whispered, running his hands up and down her arms to soothe her."It’s over."

She did not reply, just gazed into his eyes a moment longer before throwing her arms around him and breaking down into tears. He hugged her back, holding her close as she desperately clung to him. He tried to comfort her as best as he could by rubbing her back, stroking her hair, and whispering words of love in her ear, but he still felt helpless. He had no way of protecting Althea from these dreams; all he could do was be there for her when she woke up and the damage was already done, and he _hated_ that. He absolutely despised what the Thalmor had done to her, that she had to go through any of it in the first place. Brynjolf would have gladly taken Althea’s place and gone through more of the Thalmor’s psychological torture, just so she would not still dream about it. He would not have hesitated to do it, even if it meant more nightmares for himself. As long as his wife was safe, he didn’t care what happened to him.

Eventually, Althea somewhat calmed down, though she refused to let Brynjolf go. She still held him in a death grip, her arms tightly wrapped around his chest, her face buried in the crook of his neck. Every few breaths her shoulders heaved as she tried to stay calm.

"You were dead," she whispered, her warm breath soft on his skin. She finally released him and pulled her face back. Her eyes were back to normal, though they were puffy and rimmed in red from her crying. She had a distant look in them, and Brynjolf knew she was still reliving her nightmare. His wife focused on him again, her eyes dropping to his neck as she wiped away the tears that had smudged onto his skin. "He stabbed you," she continued, placing her hand on the scar on the side of his abdomen, then gazing into his eyes again. "He killed you… again."

"Althea, my love," Brynjolf started, taking her hand and lifting it until it lay over his heart. He cupped her face with his hands and rested his forehead against hers, his thumbs gently rubbing her cheeks and wiping her old tears away. "I’m alive, right here, and I’m not going anywhere."

"You don’t know that," she replied, her voice barely audible, chest rising and falling almost steadily as she fought to breathe normally.

"Aye, I do."

"Bryn, I—"

"Listen to me, lass," he said firmly. "What you saw isn’t real. Mercer’s dead, and I’m alive, not the other way around." Brynjolf tucked her dark hair behind her ear before placing his hands on her face again, giving her a small, lopsided smile. "It’s going to take a lot more than that bitter, backstabbing grump to take me away from you, all right?"

Althea choked out a small laugh and nodded, her hands dropping down to fidget with the hem of his pants. Brynjolf outright grinned at her, and she bit her lip before laughing and breaking out into a beautiful smile of her own. By the gods, he loved the way her face lit up when she did that.

He closed the small distance between them and pressed his lips to hers, getting lost in the way her mouth felt against his. He felt her small hands move to his waist, tugging on him and urging him closer to her. Brynjolf obliged, sliding his hand back and fisting it in her hair, his other hand slipping under her shirt and pulling her closer to him by the small of her back.

When the kiss ended, they barely pulled away from each other, Althea’s breath on his lips as he looked her directly in the eyes.

"I love you. With all my heart," he murmured.

"I love you, too." she replied. Even though he knew it already, his heart swelled at her words. He planted another quick kiss to her lips and one to her forehead before lying back down on the bed, his arm open and waiting for his wife.

"We’d better get some sleep. If we get down to the Guild late again, Vex is going to kill us." Althea snorted as she settled herself at his side, resting her head on his chest.

"Let her get angry," she began, wrapping her arm around his torso and throwing her leg over his. "She can’t do anything about it. _I’m_ the one in charge, not her. We can get down there anytime we want.”

"I don’t know about that, lass," Brynjolf said, lightly running his fingers up and down the curve of her back. "We’ve got a mountain of paperwork to do." She closed her eyes and sighed, her eyelashes and breath tickling his skin.

"Well, at least we can suffer through it together," she mumbled, sleep starting to take ahold of her.

"Aye." Brynjolf hated paperwork, but he loved spending that time together with his wife. The faces she made while concentrating were adorable.

He opened his mouth to crack a joke at her expense, but promptly shut it once he realized she had already fallen back to sleep. He smiled to himself and closed his eyes, trying to fall back asleep himself.

"Goodnight, love."


End file.
